


puppy love (and other convincing lies)

by princessoftheworlds



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Coda, Corgis, Fluff, M/M, korhis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29500266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds
Summary: Because of course Jack and Ianto couldn't leave a Cardiff corgi convention without a corgi puppy of their own. (Or how Jack and Ianto fall in love with a puppy named Cheddar, and what results.)
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 22
Kudos: 28





	puppy love (and other convincing lies)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fitzroysquare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitzroysquare/gifts).
  * Inspired by [mission impawsible: welcome to corgiff!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436528) by [fitzroysquare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitzroysquare/pseuds/fitzroysquare). 



> Inspired by the lovely Jacqueline, who wrote me the best fic in the world. Jack, Ianto, corgis, and korhis! So I wrote her a coda or direct sequel. Enjoy!
> 
> Beta'd by Ru and Annika!

“Iantoooo,” Jack wheedles, and before Ianto even turns around from spectating the corgi costume contest, he sighs, knowing that he will regret answering his boyfriend.

He does, his heart immediately fluttering in his chest, for Jack, the eternal handsome bastard that Ianto can never deny, is standing there cradling what is essentially a soft ball of fur – a corgi puppy with sable fur and tiny pointed ears and a stubby tail – to his chest. Jack’s expression is almost as cute as the puppy, _almost._

“He’s up for adoption,” Jack says temptingly, and Ianto knows that by the slight tug of his lips into that familiar smirk, Jack knows that he’s winning, that Ianto doesn’t stand a chance. And Jack is correct because Ianto Jones is not really a dog person, but he wants to take the corgi puppy in his arms and pet his soft fur.

Ianto sighs. “What’s his name?”

“Jax,” says Jack, grin widening, “but we should call him Cheddar.”

* * *

Cheddar is an incredibly happy and pampered dog, for all that his fathers are always unwilling to take him to the Hub to be potentially preyed upon by his older pterodactyl sister. Luckily, Cheddar is besotted with Ianto’s neighbor Bronwyn and her ten-year-old daughter Mari, who never refuses a chance to look after the puppy.

Of course, Jack’s suspicion about corgis being korhis in disguise persists. When Ianto happens upon Jack attempting to tempt Cheddar into ingesting a piece of dark chocolate, specifically from Ianto’s stash for Myfanwy, Jack ends up sleeping on the couch for several days, cowed by Ianto’s furious lecture about not endangering their beloved pet.

Still, Jack isn’t stopped from creeping up on their puppy, often when he’s napping in a patch of bright sunlight streaming from a window of Ianto’s flat or gnawing on a toy bone, or even just petting him enthusiastically, hoping to catch Cheddar’s fluffy white underbelly glowing like a disco ball. Unfortunately, all of Jack’s efforts are in vain.

(It’s not Jack’s fault that both men fail to notice that the collar they received upon adopting Cheddar was actually affixed with a perception filter. Otherwise, it’s quite evident that Cheddar’s underbelly glows bright red when Jack battles him in tug-of-war with his favorite rope toy or green when Ianto tosses him a stick in the park or a beautiful rose color when Cheddar cuddles with his two fathers on the couch.)

* * *

They get called into the Hub early on a Saturday, so early that they can’t catch a hold of Bronwyn to care for Cheddar. And Ianto is too reluctant to leave Cheddar, only about a year older than when they first adopted him, at home.

(“What if he runs out of food?” protests Ianto as Jack levels him with a raised eyebrow. “The automatic feeder could fail.”

“Tosh coded it,” Jack says, and both men ignore the stabs of grief they feel at the mention of the beloved friend they lost. “Do you doubt Tosh’s abilities?”

Ianto presses his lips together, refusing to allow Jack to see that he’s won, and lifts Cheddar into his arms. The puppy yips happily and curls against Ianto’s chest.)

When the SUV pulls up outside of Gwen’s building, she opens the passenger’s side door – where she usually sits, with Ianto in the back to handle tech, the way Tosh used to – and finds Ianto sitting in her usual seat, Cheddar perched in her lap.

“I didn’t know today was Bring Your Kid to Work Day,” she teases, reaching out to scritch behind Cheddar’s ears. He wags his tail vigorously, thumping against Ianto’s leg, and pants up at Gwen; Cheddar adores her. He’d adored Tosh and Owen too, although Owen usually had to bribe him with treats.

Gwen clambers into the back and buckles herself in, making grabby hands towards the front. Jack playfully slaps her hands away.

“I only trust Ianto to hold Cheddar in a moving car,” he says.

Ianto snorts. “So you’re willing to admit that you’re a dangerous driver?”

The only answering response is a glare from Jack and a quick hand stretching over to fondly pet Cheddar.

* * *

Once he’s free from the MI5 agents chasing him, Ianto sneaks past his building, but the pit in his stomach grows when he realizes that there are several “discreet” government SUVs parked in the car park. They’re in his and Jack’s flat, he knows, searching through the life they share. There goes all the resources and tech Ianto’s hidden in the safe behind his bed headboard. He doesn’t think that MI5 will be able to figure the Torchwood tech out should they find it; he need not worry about that.

Briefly, he feels a flicker of concern for Cheddar, who luckily is safe with Bronwyn and Mari right now. He trusts Bronwyn not to reveal that Cheddar is Jack and his puppy. Unfortunately, they’ll have to wait until after this strange phenomenon is dealt with before they can take Cheddar back, but he’s safer this way. Being a fugitive is no way to care for a puppy, and Ianto rather Cheddar stay with Bronwyn for the entirety of a week or two than risk danger with Torchwood. 

* * *

_Ianto Jones, 1983-2009. Loving brother, uncle, and friend._

“You bastard,” Jack says to the gravestone, voice thick, his eyes still burning from the tears, but no more will come. They can’t. Jack is drained, is empty of everything but regret. “You should have said no. You should have stopped me.” He inhales raggedly. “You always were my impulse control.”

Ianto doesn’t reply. Ianto never can again.

With no words left, Jack turns on his heel, only to find a familiar puppy before him – sable fur and the pointiest ears but no navy collar that Ianto had always joked matched Jack’s greatcoat.

“ _Cheddar?_ ” asks Jack, blinking in surprise, and Cheddar yips. Stunned, Jack drops to his knees in the damp grass and allows Cheddar to scurry up to him. Gently, he scratches behind Cheddar’s ears the same way Ianto used to, except this time Cheddar’s tail wag is more sedated… almost as if he _knows._

Jack lifts Cheddar into his arms and buries his face in the puppy’s fluffy fur, and Cheddar curls up against him, his wet nose burrowing into the collar of Jack’s greatcoat. The tears return now, and Jack’s chest heaves as he gasps and shudders, lifting his face to avoid crying on Cheddar.

“He’s _dead,_ Cheddar,” Jack sobs, fingers clenching down just too tightly into Cheddar’s fur. Cheddar barks and weasels free, plopping down heavily into Jack’s lap until he sits flat on his arse in the grass, holding a corgi puppy and grieving his dead boyfriend. “Ianto’s _gone._ ”

The mournful whine Cheddar makes only adds to Jack’s unbearable agony, and he takes in a strangled gasp of breath before succumbing to the tears again.

When, once again, the tears will no longer come, Jack sets Cheddar down gently on the grass and stands, brushing his greatcoat clean. This is the last gift Ianto Jones ever gave him; Jack refuses to see it damaged.

“Time to go,” Jack mutters and turns his back on Ianto’s grave, only for Cheddar to bark loudly. Jack turns back to find Cheddar’s tail drooping as the puppy gazes upon the gravestone, his underbelly glowing a subdued blue-white, the traditional color of mourning on Boeshane. Jack chokes a wet, disbelieving laugh. “I always knew you were a korhi. Ianto refused to listen.”

Shaking his head, he turns back and takes several steps forward, but Cheddar refuses to accompany him, only barking again. He stands steadfastly before Ianto’s grave.

“C’mon, Cheddar,” Jack snaps, immediately regretting his harsh tone when Cheddar whines. He sighs. “I can’t stay here anymore. Cheddar, please.”

Then there’s a sudden blurry streak of sable as the puppy takes off, darting away so quickly that Jack cannot even think to pursue. Jack calls after him, but Cheddar disappears into the thick patch of woods surrounding the cemetery.

Jack inhales sharply, turning back to the grave one last time. “This is what you left us to, Ianto. There’s nothing left here for me.” 

* * *

When Jack stands on the hilltop, telling Gwen that she’ll never see him again, he asks for one last favor.

“Find Cheddar,” he says. “Find Cheddar and make sure that he’s loved.”

Teary-eyed, Gwen nods, leaning back against Rhys’s grasp. “I will,” she promises, but try as they might, through all the treks through the woods and glades scanning for a pair of pointy ears, the heads turned by flashes of sable revealed as squirrels rousted by a curious baby Anwen, they never do find Cheddar. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [here](http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik). I tweet and reblog mostly Torchwood with occasionally amusing commentary on nonsense. Please come talk to me and tell me if/how much you like my fic or like ask me about it on tumblr; all my schoolwork has become remote now, and I have limited social interaction.


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